


Classical Witchcraft

by sanctum_c



Series: FFVII Halloween 2019 [6]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/F, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 20:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctum_c/pseuds/sanctum_c
Summary: Aeris's duties as a Witch in Sector Five.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Series: FFVII Halloween 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543612
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Classical Witchcraft

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Free Day - Happy Halloween!'. Heavily inspired by Terry Pratchett.

Aeris Gainsborough was a witch. In the classic sense; broomstick, black hat and magic. Not that magic was a particularly note-worthy skill or anything. The availability of materia allowed any in the population with the knack (and a sufficiently deep bank account) to conjure up fire, ice, lightning and, in rarer cases, dragons and lancers and Chocobos.

Aeris’s magic was different – though it shared a common source. Materia; crystallised Mako, drawn up from the depths of the Planet and rendered into spheres. The knowledge of the Ancients, of the Cetra, solidified. Aeris got her skills more directly. There were more spells in the Planet, in the Lifestream if one had the skill or patience to hear them. To spend year after year training, meditating, reaching out with one’s being. Mom had taught her before the tragedy took her; her protégé Elmyra took Aeris in in the aftermath, continued her training and became her surrogate mother.

Reality diverged sharply from popular depictions of witches. Magic might be easy for Materia users; drawing on the voice of the Planet required effort, more training and work. Short-cuts – some resembling mathematical formulae - transcribed into tomes to speed up the process on repeat uses. The call and response to invoke a spell became second nature and Aeris excelled at her studies – though it would be so much easier to obtain materia instead.

Easier but less effective. No Materia yet identified or catalogued could allow the flight her mother’s own spell provided, the enchantment cast upon a broomstick (why avoid the obvious? Even in the era of airships and powered flight, a person was unable to move as freely and quickly as she could upon her broom).

Elmyra already had a reputation in the slums of Midgar and Aeris helped perpetuate it; many were wary of the two women who could invoke spells no one else could and with few restrictions. There was a whole cocktail of reasons for the distrust, the occasional insulting word. But these never came to prominence and always swiftly subdued. Elmyra and Aeris were essential for the community of Sector Five.

Mom’s knowledge expanded well beyond magic from the Planet. Detailed medical texts, drug experiments, anaesthetic, all penned by her hand. All of use to the ails of the people of Sector Five. Aeris accompanied Elmyra from an early age, tiny black hat perched on her head; the pair went to each house, visiting the pregnant, the ill, the elderly. Keeping an eye on them, providing for them. Much of their work involved no magic at all; simple chores left undone, shopping brought home, free health checks as opposed to the uncomfortable prices in the less than reputable doctors down here or the naked profiteering of the Upper Plates.

Despite the other spells; levitation, deeper insight, visualisations of a patient’s internal injuries, no spells existed to wave away maladies. Pregnancies brought to term or else alleviated at the mother’s request. No way to restore missing limbs, and age was a remorseless drag on everyone. It was never merely one visit to someone in the Sector. They both returned time after time, Elmyra letting Aeris assist in more and more instances.

Deaths were something held back for a time – one of the few situations Elmyra took the longest to let Aeris participate in. A shock the first time; waiting on a knife-edge as hours ticked away with a patient on their deathbed. The need for their presence only became clear after the first time. The point of death, the sudden knowing the person lying in the bed had returned to the Planet and breathed their last. For most, the last moments as they faded away were imploring’s of love, devotion or sorrow for someone left behind. Distressing but nothing Aeris could not cope with. Later she would encounter the situation Elmyra wished to avoid; the vicious, angry discomfort of a return, the fading voice lashing out at those around them.

Being a witch was Aeris’s life for so long she thought little of how other people her age might be. She was a witch in training – soon to be a full witch. Not that she intended to move anywhere else. Mom’s house in the slums had become home and moving away felt wrong. So much of her dealings were with grown-ups; women giving birth, the old and infirm – until the unremarked point when attending to a pregnancy made clear the patient was younger than Aeris.

Children, teenagers, young adults in Sector Five did not especially like Aeris or Elmyra. They respected (and to an extent feared - based on older rumours of those who crossed or brought peril upon Mom) them both. Neither had many friends. Other witches certainly, though few enough were Aeris’s age and none close at hand or with a similar mindset. Aeris was okay on her own, but eventually Elmyra intervened.

“You need...” She cast about, removing her hat and cloak. “Someone else.”

Aeris blinked at her. “A romantic partner.”

“Well. Yes, if you would like to pursue that.” Not something Aeris had thought much about. That kind of thing seemed to extend mostly to how one wound up pregnant or how one ended up weeping beside the bed a partner lay dying in. “Though even just someone your age. Someone for you to talk to or...”

“The people my age keep their distance.” Aeris placed her hat on the stand. “I could try a different sector?”

“Maybe.” Elmyra approached holding the paper. “Though I was thinking maybe a pen-pal?”

“A pen-pal?” Letters? A delayed conversation.

“It’s not ideal.” Elmyra sighed. “But maybe if you can start talking to them so they get to know... you, before you worry about mentioning the Witch bit.”

“You always said it was nothing to be ashamed of!”

“I know, I know.” Another sigh. “But I don’t want you to miss out-“

“Would taking off the hat help?” Aeris clutched the brim.

“It might.” She smiled. “That might be better. And wear something more colourful if you try.”

Now the notion was in place; who were these people who wanted pen-pals? Still odd given the availability of phones. But- A skim read. Men looking for romance. Men looking for someone to talk to about... sports. Less than compelling. On and on and- One stood out for no particular reason. This was familiar enough; the Planet suggested at times, highlighted something mundane or made them aware of significances.

T. Lockhart. Resident of Nibelheim. Likes Martial Arts, piano, cooking and writing.

Another name in amongst so many others, but- Aeris fetched the writing paper and penned a first letter. Careful introduction. She was Aeris Gainsborough, resident of Sector Five in Midgar. Interests included- A quick cast around the room to figure out the best way to not precisely lie, but not outright admit her situation. Gardening. Caring for the elderly. Research. Or perhaps reading? Her first letter became a mass of re-worded and crossed out changes. What did T write? She wrote the letter all out again and sent it off the next day, rapidly forgetting all about it.

A month later the reply arrived. This lead to trying to remember what the first letter said. How much had Aeris implied and how much was carefully couched to avoid controversy? T was Tifa – and glad to have an answer from her. The caring for the Elderly threw her – Aeris penned a better explanation before she was through the letter. Her writing was all oriented around a TV programme; Aeris made a note to tune in and see what it was all about.

That was how Aeris wound up watching Seeds of the Garden – a dubbed soap opera from Wutai about a group of teenagers in a military with magically augmented powers. Fun enough. She asked Tifa for some of her writing out of curiosity.

The letters accelerated to the point Aeris would receive a reply every two weeks; about the fastest expected between so distant settlements. Tifa’s writing encouraged Aeris to try her own – sending it back for critique and review by Tifa. Tifa’s she carefully kept along with the letters, but she would return to that time and again for enjoyment. Letters became augmented with phone-calls; Aeris volunteering Elmyra’s number first. Thrilling to hear Tifa’s voice – however faint and crackly it was thanks to distance.

Tifa was easy and fun to talk to. But always on edge. Always something that did not sit right with her. Two years from the initial contact and Tifa let slip what it was:

“I think I hate my Dad.”

“Oh.” Aeris shifted the phone from one ear to the other, twisting the cord between her fingers. How to respond to that?

“I mean. I love him and I don’t want anything to happen to him. It’s just me and him at home. No one my age is here and people are leaving the town. He refuses to even consider moving. No one comes here anymore. No one needs me to guide them across Mount Nibel and...”

“Tifa...”

A loud sigh from her end of the phone. “I wish someone could help me get away. Just swoop down and carry me off. I can’t afford a transport ticket out of here-“

“I will.” Aeris bit her lip. “I mean. I would. If I could.”

Tifa chuckled. “I know. Thank you. That at least gives me something happy to think about.”

Was it idle conversation? Or did Tifa truly wish for something like that? She was down, depressed and unhappy in her situation. And Aeris could – absolutely could – get to her. Flying to Nibelheim would be all kinds of exhausting. The drain of magic to keep the broom air-borne, not to mention the weather and finding somewhere to say. Navigation. So many reasons not to. But a bigger reason to make the effort: Tifa.

A few more conversations had Aeris convinced. She would apologise to Elmyra and strike out. Sail her broomstick across the sea and to Nibelheim. Swoop down to the town and find Tifa. Let her know everything and- And what happened next was up for debate. If Tifa wasn’t serious it could be an arduous, unfulfilling trip. And that might damage their friendship.

But if Tifa was honest, perhaps Aeris could offer a way out. Sit Tifa behind her on the broom and return to Midgar with her. Still unsure up until the day; her deadline, to set off and (theoretically) arrive in Nibelheim for Tifa’s favourite holiday. The time when the world at large seemed to celebrate the old magic and witchcraft. A decision. Aeris would go to say in person “Happy All Hallow's Eve”.


End file.
